


Speaking Through the Door

by SirMuffinsworth



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Post-New Dangan Ronpa V3, Survivor Guilt, They both need a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29830842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirMuffinsworth/pseuds/SirMuffinsworth
Summary: Shuichi wakes up at 3 am from a nightmare. Maki is there to comfort him.But between the two of them, which of them needs the comfort more is up for debate.Maki has a secret.
Relationships: Akamatsu Kaede/Saihara Shuichi (past), Chabashira Tenko/Yumeno Himiko (past), Harukawa Maki/Momota Kaito (past), Harukawa Maki/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	Speaking Through the Door

“...ichi?”

“You alive in there, emo?”

“Shuichi, wake up, will ya?”

“Shuichi!”

Shuichi’s eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the harsh flourescent blue light. Where was he? He couldn’t fully remember how he got here, or even where here was. His vision was blurry, his ears were ringing. There was a sour taste in his mouth.

“He’s just shutting down on us,” a muffled voice came, through the high-pitched whine that pervaded his mind, “He knows he’s done.”

“What…” he murmured, “What’s… going on?”

“A trial, dumbass,” a harsh female voice replied, somewhere nearby, “Don’t act like you suddenly have amnesia.”

“Yeah…” a dopey female voice added, “That’s his schtick, not yours…”

Shuichi’s eyes widened. Trial? The trials were over. The killing game was over. What was going on? His vision began to clear as he shook his head, the ringing in his ears subsiding. 

“Who…” he murmured, glancing around as the faces around him began to come into focus.

He stopped cold.

“This is pointless,” Tenko Chabashira shook her head, “We already know he’s the killer, this act won’t change that. Let’s just vote and be done with this.”

“Agreed,” Rantaro Amami nodded, “Sorry, Shuichi, but we’re finished here.”

“W-what!?” Shuichi staggered, grabbing his cold podium for support as he glanced around, “K-killer!? What’s going on? How are you all--”

“Feigning ignorance won’t get you anywhere,” Maki Harukawa’s cold gaze broke his heart, “Just vote and die.”

“Maki…” Shuichi murmured, feeling tears welling up in his eyes as his friend turned pointedly away from him.

“This is what happens when you break the rules, Shuichi,” Angie Yonaga clapped her hands, seemingly nonchalant, “Atua demands that the guilty be punished!”

“Rules? What the hell did I do!?” he shouted, looking around frantically.

“You killed them,” Ryoma Hoshi shook his head, “Our friends. You killed them.”

“Nyeh…” Himiko Yumeno covered her face with the brim of her hat, “I don’t wanna watch another execution, but…”

“Answer me!” Shuichi cried, “What’s going on!? Who did I kill!?”

“Aww, that’s so cute,” Kokichi Oma smirked, “Just look around, Mr. Detective. I’m sure you’ll get it.”

Shuichi whipped his head back and forth, before his heart sunk. His classmates were all here, gathered around their respective podiums, except…

The podiums of Kaede Akamatsu, Kirumi Tojo, Korekiyo Shinguji, Gonta Gokuhara, Kaito Momota, Tsumugi Shirogane and K1-B0 were marked with memorial photos. Their faces glared evilly out from behind the pink crosses that labeled them deceased, as if accusing him themselves post mortem.

“No…” Shuichi murmured, “I didn’t…”

“But you did,” Rantaro shrugged, blood beginning to fall from his head, “You know you did. You killed them, Shuichi.”

Ryoma, dripping wet, pressed Shuichi’s face on his monitor with a sad sigh.

“It’s your fault they’re dead, Shuichi,” Angie’s tone was dark, blood cascading from her head and neck.

“Get out of our sight,” Tenko shot him a dirty look as she voted for him, somehow speaking despite the gaping hole through the back of her throat.

“Please… I didn’t…” he fell to his knees, sorrow filling his stomach.

“Whatever, Pooichi,” Miu sighed beside him, rubbing her bruised neck while pressing his face on her pad.

“Man, boooooring,” the mess of crushed bone and viscera behind Kokichi’s podium shifted around just enough to hit the pad in front of it, “And here I was hoping we could have some fun…”

“I didn’t… mean…” Shuichi could feel tears beginning to stream down his face as he stared at the floor, “I… only wanted to…”

“It doesn’t matter what you wanted,” Maki sighed, “It matters what you did. You killed them all.”

“Are you even sorry?” Himiko asked.

“Of course I am!” the detective cried, “I never… I n-never wanted any of them to d-die! I only wanted… I only wanted to s-save everyone…”

“Bang-up job of that, really,” Rantaro rolled his eyes, “At least I technically succeeded, in the way that nobody died while I was alive. Sheesh…”

“I tried to save everybody too, you know…” Kokichi shrugged, “Why didn’t that work again? I can’t quiiiiite remember…”

A dreadfully familiar high-pitched voice piped up from somewhere above them all, “Alright, the votes are in! Who will be chosen as the blackened? Will you make the right choice… or the despairfully wrong one?”

Shuichi didn’t even need to look up as the slot machine began to spit out the coins that symbolized victory. He knew the face that would be emblazoned on the spinner. And he knew what the flashing text would read.

GUILTY.

“Yup yup!” Monokuma giggled, “Looks like you guys got it right! The blackened who sent all of your friends to their deaths was none other than… Shuichi Saihara, the Ultimate Detective!”

“As if we didn’t already know that,” Tenko rolled her eyes, “Now just execute this degenerate.”

“I’m sorry…” he sobbed, “I never… please, I…”

“You’re deluding yourself, Shuichi,” Kokichi sighed, “Their lives were never really important to you right? Not as important as your precious truth, at least…”

“Fear not, Shuichi…” Angie smiled, “Atua will welcome you into his kingdom! All you need to do is pray!”

“I’m so sorry… everyone…”

Maki shook her head, “Ugh. I can’t watch this anymore. Just wake up, Shuichi.”

Shuichi perked up, slowly meeting the cold gaze of the assassin, “W-what…”

“Did you not hear me?” she spat, “I said, wake up.”

“Wake…what?”

Maki lunged forwards, grabbing Shuichi by the shoulders and shaking him.

“Wake up, Shuichi!”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Shuichi gasped, his head jolting forwards as the covers were thrown off of him. His entire body was caked in a film of chilling sweat as he breathed heavily, still feeling the cold streaks of tears staining his cheeks.

“Finally,” Maki sighed, resting a hand on his shoulder, “I’ve been trying to wake you up for almost a minute.”

“M-Maki?” Shuichi stammered, glancing around once more. He was back in the flat, the one he, Maki, and Himiko had been renting under aliases. He was in his bedroom, on his bed, the moonlight pouring through the half-open curtains. A cursory glance at his bedside table told him that it was almost 3 am.

“Yeah, it’s just me,” the assassin sighed.

Shuichi shook his head, trying to clear the nightmare from his mind, “Do, uhm… do you need something?”

Maki eyed him curiously, “I should ask you the same thing. You were thrashing around and crying in your sleep, Shuichi.”

The detective’s heart sank as he looked away from her inquisitive gaze, “Ah… s-sorry. Did I, um… did I wake you?”

She shook her head, “I woke up to get a glass of water, I heard you from the kitchen. I figured I should probably wake you up, so.”

Shuichi nodded shakily, trying to quell his still-quick heartbeat, “I see… I’m, uh… sorry. It’s nothing.”

Maki’s eyelids slid downwards halfway while her left eyebrow cocked up.

“Shuichi,” she sighed, “Don’t lie to me. You’re still visibly shaking, you idiot.”

Shuichi swallowed, looking down to find that it was true. His hands, clenched in his lap with white knuckles, were quivering. A pang of guilt shot through him, realizing that he was probably making Maki worry about him, but he couldn’t find the right words to dissuade her.

“Was it…” she asked, her tone softening slightly. She didn’t need to finish her question for him to understand.

“Y-yeah…” he sighed, looking downwards.

“Who was there?”

Shuichi swallowed, “...Maki, I don’t want you to---”

“Do you wanna die?”

Shuichi stopped. Maki’s tone was just as cold as it ever was when she ued that catchphrase of hers, but it lacked the usual punch. He tilted his gaze up to catch hers to find her eyes filled with an uncommon emotion for the assassin. Concern, if he read it right.

“Shuichi,” the girl sighed, “Whenever I, or Himiko, are having a rough time, you always talk us through it. If you need… to talk, I guess… we’re friends. You can trust me.”

“Maki…” he sighed, shaking his head slightly. He knew the assassin had enough on her plate as it was, all three of them did, he didn’t want to pile on any more.  
Ever since the killing game ended almost a year prior, the three survivors had started a new life together, renting an innocuous flat under aliases. Team Danganronpa had publicly called the three of them deceased, and since the broadcasts had ended with Keebo’s life, none of the fans really questioned it. There were conspiracy theories, of course, but most of the public attention towards Danganronpa as a franchise had been shifted towards the collapse of the brand. 

As such, the three escapees had been left to their own devices. Their own pain. Shuichi knew full well that Maki was haunted by their former classmates just as much as he was, same went with Himiko. They didn’t need to be worrying about him.

“It was almost everybody,” he found himself saying anyway, despite himself, “We were in a trial. Y--- everybody voted me the blackened. I was guilty.”

“Who did you kill?” Maki asked.

Shuichi sighed, “The same people I killed in reality.”

The assassin blinked in confusion, before her expression morphed to a mix of anger and sadness.

“Shuichi, you didn’t kill any of the blackened,” she shook her head, “Monokuma killed them. Tsumugi killed them.”

“And let me guess, ‘I was saving everyone’s lives’, right?” Shuichi asked bitterly, “‘there was nothing else I could have done’? Is that what you were going to say?”

Maki was silent.

“You didn’t look them in the eyes, Maki. Kaede, Kirumi, Korekiyo, Gonta, Kaito… the finger of accusation was always mine. I… I was the one who stole their futures away from them. I stole their chance at survival. If I hadn’t… they would be alive.”

“You did the only thing you could,” Maki laid a gentle hand on Shuichi’s slightly quivering shoulder, “You know that, Shuichi.”

“I could have lied,” his voice cracked, “I could have denied it. If I had figured out Kokichi’s plan a little sooner---”

“Shuichi,” Maki cut him off, “Stop. I won’t let you blame yourself for Kaito.”

“Who else is there!?” he cried, feeling tears begin to fall once more down his cheeks, “It was my own damn insistence on finding the truth… if I had just learned to shut up once in a while…”

Maki swallowed roughly. This was a tough subject for her.

“If Kaito had survived that trial, he would still have died,” her voice was weak, “His illness would have killed him regardless of what you did. Kokichi’s plan was idealistic, but idiotic, you know that. Tsumugi would have just called it good enough, and nothing would be different. Nobody could have stopped the killing game before we did.”

“Rantaro could have… but I couldn’t tell what Kaede was planning, and---”

“You weren’t in control of Kaede, Shuichi. You couldn’t have known the mistake she was going to make. Besides, even if you had, remember, Kaede didn’t even kill Rantaro. Tsumugi would have just pinned it on somebody else nearby and let the game go on.”

Shuichi was silent. While logically, he could see Maki’s point, the burning guilt he still felt wouldn’t allow him to accept her words as truth. Kaede’s sad, resolute eyes as he laid out his arguments against her were still boring into his soul to this very day, over a year after he had seen them. He could still hear Kirumi’s scream of defiance as she ran for her life from an execution there was no hope of escaping. Kiyo’s cries of agony as his flesh cooked off his bones. Gonta’s tears as the entomologist finally accepted what had to happen. He would never forget. He couldn’t.

“It still hurts,” he eventually said. His voice cracked, and he could tell it was a poor summary of what he was feeling, but he had no other way to articulate it.

“I know it does,” the assassin sighed, “I feel it too. I see Kaito’s face every night. I don’t blame myself for accidentally getting him mixed up with Kokichi’s plan, but… that took some time.”

Shuichi nodded. He had comforted Maki on many a late night like this one about that same issue.

“I’m sorry, Maki, but…” he sighed, “I can’t do that. I can’t just let it go, I can’t forgive myself for the role I played. I’m not strong enough. I’m sorry.”

The girl cocked her head to the side, not responding immediately.

“What?” Shuichi asked at her curious gaze.

“It’s strange…” she murmured, “How someone who taught me such a lesson doesn’t know it themselves…”

“...what do you mean?”

“Shuichi,” Maki laid a hand over Shuichi’s clasped ones in his lap, steadying him somewhat, “There’s more than one way to be strong, you know. Everybody’s strong somehow, and everybody is weak somehow, too.”

The detective blinked, confused.

“Look, take me for an example,” the girl sighed, “You think I’m strong because I can forgive myself? Because I can be calm no matter what? Okay. I accept that. I’m weak, too. I’m weak because I… I’m bad at feeling things for people, good or bad. I hated Kokichi, I mean, I really hated him. I tried to kill him, I hated him so much. Most people don’t… do that. Obviously.”

Shuichi nodded slowly.

“Also… I loved Kaito. I only knew him for less than a month, but… I loved him. And the fact that I still go to bed sometimes forcing back tears over his death… I don’t call that strong. But… thanks to you, I realized that that’s okay. That’s how you’re strong, Shuichi.”

“...how does that---”

“I’m getting to that,” Maki’s hand clenched around his, prompting him to stay quiet, “Your strength comes from your heart, Shuichi. You care about people. You’ve helped Himiko and me more times than I can count, at this point, if I’m being completely honest. You say you’re weak, and maybe that’s true, but… when you care about someone, and it comes time to fight for them, I’ve seen how strong you can be. You taught me that, Shuichi.”

The boy didn’t respond. He just stared at her, tears leaking from his eyes.

Maki flushed, “Um… sorry. Just forget I said any of---”

“T-thank you, Maki.”

The assassin blinked at him, shocked.

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget the role I played in the game,” Shuichi sniffled, “And I don’t know if I’ll ever really be able to forgive myself for a lot of things, but… thanks for being here. And for… saying all that.”

“Don’t mention it…” Maki’s eyes softened as she allowed the corners of her mouth to tug upwards.

Shuichi nodded at her, enjoying the warmth of her hand clasping his in his lap.

“Now look, Shuichi,” she sighed, “I know you don’t want us to worry about you, but… you can talk to us, alright? Whenever you need to, Himiko and I are here for you. I’m… here for you. If you need me to be.”

Both of their faces had mirror images of the pink dusting on their cheeks. Maki looked down and examined the bedsheets, blocking his gaze with her bangs.

“Ma...ki?” he eventually asked, “Are you… okay?”

The girl tensed for a moment, before deflating and sighing, “...no. I’m never alright, Shuichi.”

The boy smiled, patting the bed beside him and motioning for her to sit down, “Then let me return the favour.”

Maki hesitated, viewing the space beside him as one might view a pit of snakes they were about to jump into, but she eventually sat down. She still wouldn’t meet his gaze as she fiddled with a lock of her hair.

“I… lied to you, earlier…” she murmured.

“When?” he asked.

“I didn’t… wake up for a glass of water. I…”

Maki didn’t finish, but Shuichi understood.

“Who was there?” he asked, mimicking what she had asked him earlier.

The assassin tensed, and Shuichi could sense internal conflict within her. Her fingers tightened on the lock of hair they had been toying with as her other hand buried itself in her lap.

“Kaito,” she eventually said.

“I see,” Shuichi nodded, “Do you---”

“...and Kaede.”

The boy blinked. That was unexpected, usually the fallen astronaut was the only one Maki’s dreams were haunted by.

“Tell me,” he murmured.

Maki was silent for a moment. Shuichi couldn’t sense the conflict within her anymore, but rather discourse, as though she was trying to find the right words for something.

“Shuichi,” she eventually choked out, “About Kaede… did you… love her?”

The detective felt a pang through his heart. His feelings for the late pianist were long since something he had chosen not to untangle. There was admiration there, of course, and regret. Betrayal and sadness. Grief, most prominently. It was a complex web.

“I… don’t know,” he eventually sighed, “I don’t think I loved her in the same sense that you loved Kaito, but… there was something there. I know I didn’t know her for any more than four days, but… I felt something, for certain.”

Maki nodded slowly, her fingers now toying with her hair more erratically. Shuichi laid a hand on her shoulder to stabilize her, which seemed to help a little.

“Are we…” she whispered, “Am I… betraying them?”

Shuichi’s eyes widened, “B-betraying? How would you be betraying them?”

Maki’s voice was shaky as she replied, “Kaito was the person who… taught me how to feel… love. For him, and for myself. And… he also taught me how to be loved, too…”

Shuichi nodded slowly. He wasn’t sure where this conversation was going, but he wanted to help his friend. She was clearly in pain, and he hated seeing her like this.

“Maki…” he said, “Please, just tell me what’s wrong. You’re stubborn, I get that, but it’s okay. It’s just me. Be honest.”

The assassin was quiet for a moment, before looking up and meeting his eyes slowly. He could see, in the pale light from the moon outside, that there were tears she was forcing not to fall. Her vision swam as she looked up at him, her shoulder shaking under his reassuring hand.

“Shuichi… Kaito… and Kaede…” she murmured, “Please… don’t…”

Shuichi was taken aback as she flung her arms around his head, throwing her weight over him like a blanket. He was about to cry out in surprise, possibly ask what was going on, but Maki stifled all of that by kissing him.

Wait, what?

As soon as Shuichi processed what in the hell was happening, Maki broke it off and pushed him backwards. He sprawled against his bed as she stood up sharply, fists clenched and trembling.

“I’m so sorry…”

With that, the girl fled, the door swinging open as she made a beeline for her own bedroom. Shuichi finally shook off his dumbfoundedness enough to realize he should probably follow her. The cool wooden floor was unpleasant to his bare feet, but he rushed through the hallway and stopped outside her door, which was closed.

“Maki?” he whispered, careful not to wake Himiko, who was asleep in the other room.

No response came.

“Maki!” he tried again.

“Go away, Shuichi,” her shaking voice came. She was clearly trying to keep it steady, but it wasn’t working, “I don’t want to talk.”

Shuichi swallowed, nervousness building in his stomach. Being kissed by Maki was the absolute last thing he had expected out of their conversation, and he had absolutely no idea how to react to it. Evidently, Maki didn’t either.

“Maki, please explain to me what’s going on,” he pleaded, “I promise, I’m not angry at you or anything. Please, just---”

“That was a mistake. It should never have happened. Just forget it did.”

Despite himself, Shuichi felt a little something break inside him at those words. He tried the handle, unsurprisingly finding it locked.

“Maki… I… I just… do you…”

No response came as he desperately tried to come up with a coherent sentence to express what he was feeling. Everything was up in the air, Shuichi barely even knew what direction was up with how much his head was reeling. 

“Maki… what do you want?” he eventually settled on.

No reply.

“Even if you think you can’t have it. Even if it’s completely impossible, Maki… just tell me what you want. I’ll listen.”

Again, no verbal response came, but Shuichi heard a sob from the other side of the door. It was very close, and lower than he was, so he realized she was probably sitting down and leaning her back against it.

“Please, just talk to me, Maki,” he softened his voice, “I’ll listen.”

“I w-want…” she choked softly, “I want to f-feel… that again… w-without feeling g-guilty…”

“Feel what again?” he asked.

“W-what I had with K-Kaito… I miss it…” she cried, “I miss it so m-much… but I can’t feel it again if it’s not him, because… I just can’t…”

Shuichi was dumbfounded.

“Maki…” he murmured, “You were in love with Kaito… so… are you…”

“I DON’T KNOW!” she cried, causing Shuichi to flinch at her volume. Himiko did not need to get woken up to this, “Shuichi… I don’t know what I feel. I don’t know what I CAN feel…without betraying them…”

The boy breathed sharply. Now he understood. 

“Maki…” he murmured softly, laying a hand against the door as if he could hold her hand through it, “Let me in.”

“I can’t…” she replied.

“Why not?”

“B-because…” her voice came out as a whimper, “Whenever I see you… it’s like I’m spitting on his grave, and… I…”

“Are you still in love with Kaito?” he asked.

“...yes. Y-yes, I am…”

Shuichi swallowed, preparing himself, “And, that feeling, um… are you saying you… feel it for me, too?”

Maki didn’t reply, but her strangled sob was enough of a yes for him.

A bizarre emotion bubbled up in Shuichi’s gut, but he forced it down for now. It wouldn’t help her at that moment, and that was all he wanted to do.

“I don’t want to forget Kaito,” the assassin cried, “And I… still want him back… but…”

“But you want me, too?” Shuichi finished.

“I know… I’m sorry…”

Who exactly she was apologizing to was unclear. Shuichi sighed, resting his forehead against the door. He was a detective, he wasn’t equipped for this. He knew that Maki needed him, needed his help, but he had no idea where to even begin untangling the web of self-loathing he had suddenly been confronted with in her.

“Maki…” he sighed, “If… if Himiko was to get a boyfriend or a girlfriend, how would you feel?”

Maki hesitated for a moment, before shakily replying, “...what?”

“I said, how would you feel if Himiko got a girlfriend or boyfriend?”

Maki took a second, “W-well… I’d be happy for her…”

“Why?”

“Well, because it means she’s happy… and she deserves to be happy…”

Shuichi nodded, “And you wouldn’t think that she’s… I dunno, ‘spitting on Tenko’s grave’, as you put it?”

Maki was silent. Now she realized what he was getting at.

“You’re right, Maki,” Shuichi said, “We would feel happy for her. And no, we wouldn’t think that, because it isn’t true.”

“That’s different…” Maki’s defense was weak.

“You only think that because you’re you,” the boy sighed, “You’re the only one who would ever think that you’re betraying Kaito by feeling this way, because you’re the one with those feelings. I don’t blame you for it. Himiko wouldn’t blame you for it.”

Shuichi swallowed before finishing, “And Kaito wouldn’t blame you for it either.”

“You don’t know that!” she cried, “You can’t know that, Shuichi!”

“Yes, I can,” he replied firmly, “Don’t forget, Maki, Kaito was my friend, too. Kaito was kind. Compassionate, if a little hotheaded. He would never think you’re betraying him like you say you are. You aren’t insulting his memory by feeling emotions for another person, Maki. If anything, picturing him as a person who would feel betrayed by that is the real insult to him.”

Maki didn’t respond. He couldn’t hear her crying on the other side of the door either. It was like she was a void that his words were sinking into, and he hoped he could fill it. Shuichi could still feel the strange emotion in his stomach, the one he had quashed, and he decided to allow it some room. Out of curiosity, out of instinct, he couldn’t really tell, but he was just as shocked as Maki was with the sentence that left his mouth next.

“And Kaede wouldn’t feel betrayed by us being together either.”

Maki’s breath audibly hitched in her throat, “Shui...chi?”

Shuichi gulped as the emotion took far more room than he had intended to allow it. In fact, it began to smother several other things he had lined up to comfort the assassin, wiping away his plans of talking her down and returning things to the way they had been.

Because maybe, just maybe… he didn’t want things to go back to how they had been.

“Maki…” his voice broke in his throat, “Let me in, please. You know I’m right. Please, just…”

Shuichi’s heart soared when he heard the deadbolt lock of her bedroom door slide open. The doorknob turned, and ever so slowly, she creaked it open. Maki only opened the door enough to peer out at him, but he could see in the dim light that her eyes were bloodshot and puffy.

“Maki…” he murmured, “I… I really care about you, okay? I don’t… I don’t know what to call it. It’s not love, not yet at least, but…”

“But it could become that…” Maki murmured, “If you let it…”

Shuichi nodded, “Is it… the same?”

The assassin nodded back.

“Maki… we can never forget what we felt for Kaede and Kaito. And… we’ll probably never stop feeling that for them. But… this can be okay, too. This feeling that I have for you… I can’t really explain it, but… I want to explore it with you. And… that would be okay. If we want it to be.”

Shakily, Shuichi held out his hand towards the crack of Maki’s face that he could see. Ever so slowly, she opened the door and stepped out of it, holding her hands close to her chest and eyeing his outstretched one timidly.

“Do you… promise?” she asked, meeting his eyes with a pleading look.

“I promise, Maki,” he nodded, “You can trust me.”

Hesitantly, Maki reached out and touched his hand. She shied back at first, her fingers shaking, before she let out a slight cry of exhilaration. Rather than grabbing his hand, she lunged forwards and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest and making him flush red.

“M-Maki!” he exclaimed in surprise, “I, uh…”

“Do you want to die!?” she sounded muffled as her mouth was pressed against his pajama top, “You want me to trust you? Fine! Hug me, dumbass!”

“Wha---”

“HUG ME!”

Hesitantly, Shuichi obliged, wrapping his arms around the smaller girl. One arm coiled protectively around her shoulders, while the other caressed her hair with his thumb. Maki breathed a ragged sigh of relief, as if she hadn’t believed him at all until that very moment, but had been hoping beyond hope that it was true.

“It’s okay, Maki,” he murmured, “You’re okay.”

“I… I know, Shuichi,” she sighed, tilting her chin up and meeting his gaze, “I just… I don’t… you know… I’m not good at this stuff…”

The boy suppressed a laugh at the girl’s pink cheeks, instead opting for a smile that radiated the warmth he felt spreading within him.

“Neither am I,” he murmured, “But… we’ll get better. With practice, I mean.”

Maki gave him a shaky smile, “Y-yeah, right… speaking of practice…”

The assassin crept up onto her toes and kissed him again. It wasn’t the most graceful thing, their teeth did scrape a few times, but after everything else they had been through that night, maybe a little imperfection was perfect in and of itself.

Himiko was in for a very interesting conversation come breakfast.

**Author's Note:**

> Well well well, will ya look at that, he can write things that aren't Hinazumi after all.
> 
> I put a poll up on reddit to decide what I'd do next. This fic beat out Sairumi Hanahaki Angst/Fluff, as I honestly kinda expected it to. 
> 
> Speaking of polls, here's one for all of you. About what I should keep writing on AO3. I've been doing a lot of oneshots recently, and I'm honestly content with doing those, but I'm wondering if people want to see me do more longform things like I did with When Our World Falls Apart and Victims of Circumstance.
> 
> https://strawpoll.com/6b6bh6o21


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